


All I Need

by everythingsace



Series: Thank God For Peter Parker [5]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (and a lil sad), De-Aged Tony Stark, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Tony is v cute and everyone else is babysitting, it's fun, tony is impressed by stephen's cloak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsace/pseuds/everythingsace
Summary: “This is so cool,” Tony says, awestruck, sticking his hand in and out of the hologram, which he’s only ever seen on cartoons. “Are there other pictures?” Tony asks, staring. “Hey! What do I look like? When I’m old?”“I’m older than you are normally, and I’m getting a little offended you keep calling us old,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony simply raises his eyebrows. Mr. Rhodey can not deny that he’s old.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this for a WHILE. It's one of the longest fics I've written, and definitely the longest one I've posted. I hope you enjoy lil' Tony.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

It’s said flatly, but Tony can tell that the man is angry. He shrinks back, stepping behind the tall lab table, so he’s merely peeking over the top. The tall man crosses his arms, looking frustrated.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Tony blubbers, trying to hold back his tears because this man is probably one of Daddy’s friends, and Daddy says Tony shouldn’t cry. Daddy says Tony shouldn’t show weakness because Tony is  a Stark and Stark men don’t cry. Tony doesn’t really understand that, because Tony’s only a kid, he isn’t a man, but he knows he shouldn’t argue. Point is, he knows he isn’t supposed to cry and if he cries, this man will tell Daddy, and then Tony will be in trouble and Daddy will yell and maybe even--

“Hey, hey, no,” the man says, frowning, and shoot, Tony _is_ crying. Daddy’s going to be mad.

“Hey, I’m not angry at you, kid. I don’t think I am, anyway. Can you tell me how you got in here?” the man asks, but Tony doesn’t _know,_ he just just wants to go back to Mama and Jarvis, but he’s stuck in this weird place and he doesn’t know _why_. He just wants to go home.

“I- I dunno. I dunno. I wanna go home. Where’s Mama?” Tony’s voice catches in his throat as he gasps for air. “Wait, are you gonna hurt me?” He takes a sudden step back. “P’ease don’t hurt me, I jus’ wanna go home. Don’t hurt me like the other bad guys. Daddy- Daddy isn’t gonna give you any money, p’ease just- p’ease just bring me back home, p’ease-” The boy hiccups and he roughly rubs a soft arm across his eyes. He suddenly drops onto his knees, rubbing at his eyes furiously. He just wants to go home.

“Whoa, whoa,” the man says quickly, hurrying to join Tony on the floor. Tony glances up and notices that the man has metals on his legs. The man’s eyes look kinda like Jarvis’s, soft and concerned, but he also looks sorta scared. Of Tony? Why would he be scared of Tony?

“I am not here to hurt you, kid. I just want to know how you managed to get in here without anybody noticing. I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise. What do you mean your dad isn’t going to pay? And what do you mean ‘bad guys?’” he asks.

Tony’s not sure if he should tell the man, because Daddy said not to ever tell the bad people anything, but- but this isn’t about Daddy’s inventions or Captain America, so maybe- maybe he can tell him. He has eyes like Jarvis’s.

“Well,” Tony starts, eyeing the man nervously. “Last time the bad guys took me, they hurt me and they wouldn’ give me back ‘til Daddy paid ‘em. He says he won’ do it again, though, because next time, I’ve gotta figure it out all on my own ‘cause I’m s’posed to be smart, and he can’t afford to spend a a couple million dollars on me every time I go missin’. He says I gotta be smart, so if I don’t be  smart, he’s gonna get mad and he’ll yell, and I don’t like it when Daddy yells.”

The man looks sad, but he also looks angry. Oh, shoot, Tony probably said something wrong, didn’t he? He always says something wrong, Daddy will probably lock him in his room again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I don’t want to, and I don’t even know who your dad is. I’m going to try to get you home, okay? Will you let me help you?”

Tony hesitates before nodding, bobbing his head up and down quickly. “Okay. I wanna go home, so if… if you promise you won’ hurt me, I’ll letcha help.”

The man nods, leaning forward like he’s gonna tell a secret. “Hey, I _promise_ I won’t hurt you. And I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you, either.”

Tony nods, looking at the floor. “D’you pinky swear?” he asks, lifting his gaze hesitantly.

That brings a chuckle from the man, who then nods. “Yeah, of course I do. I pinky swear.” He lifts his hand and locks his pinky finger with Tony’s, who’s now feeling a little better.

“Okay. Hey, wha’s your name?”

The man smiles kindly, and his smile is sorta like Jarvis’s. Only a little less wrinkles. “You can call me Rhodey.”

Tony leans back, scrunching his nose. “Rhodey? That’s a weird name,” he says, unable to stop himself from giggling. Mama would probably tell him he’s being impolite, but his name _is_ weird, so Tony thinks it should be okay.

Luckily, the man doesn’t think he’s rude. Mr. Rhodey laughs instead, nodding. “Yeah, it’s a little weird. It’s a nickname, though, so it’s okay. So what’s your-- hey, where are you going?”

Tony ignores him, instead staring with determination at something in the corner. Something that shouldn’t be there.

“Hey, kid, you…” Mr. Rhodey trails off, following Tony’s line of sight.

It’s a shield.

It’s _Captain America’s_ shield.

“Why is Cap’n America’s shield here? Shouldn’ it be with him?” Tony asks, reaching the shield. He sits down next to it, dragging a small finger along the edges of the star. “How didja get it? Shouldn’t it be in the Arc-uh-tic?”

Mr. Rhodey frowns, sitting next to Tony carefully. Tony looks at him and he realizes that Mr. Rhodey kinda looks like he’s in pain when he’s moving like that. Tony decides he won’t get up and move around so much anymore.

“Well, Cap and his shield haven’t been in the ice for a while, kid.”

Tony looks up, gasping. _“What?”_

Mr. Rhodey gives him a weird look, like adults do when Tony can’t get his words right when he’s explaining things.  But there’s not a lotta stuff to understand about the word “what,” so that can’t be it. “Daddy’s gonna be so happy!” Tony exclaims, jumping up excitedly. Wait, that hurts for Mr. Rhodey. He plops back down, still jittering with exhilaration.

“Dad is gonna be so _happy,”_ Tony whispers, a little breathless. “He’s gonna be so happy that Cap’n America is back. He’ll be able to stop going on trips so much, and--” Tony gasps again, realizing something else. “Oh my gosh! Aunt Peggy’s gonna be so e’cited!”

Mr. Rhodey’s eyes widen. “Wait.” He leans forward, tugging Tony closer gently. He looks at Tony’s face closely (his breath kinda stinks), before leaning back again. “Oh my God, _Tony?”_

Tony inches back, confused. “Yeah?”

Mr. Rhodey rubs his hand down his face, squishing his big nose. “Oh my God,” he says, his voice muffled. “Oh my God, _oh my God--”_

“Y’know, Mama says we shouldn’ say God’s name like that. We gotta be nicer to him. Daddy doesn’t believe in God, but Mama makes sure he follows the rule, too.”

“Oh my _God--”_

“Mr. Rhodey!” Tony whines, but Mr. Rhodey doesn’t stop.

“How did this happen? What the hell is going on?”

“You shouldn’ say that either!” Tony scorns, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Listen, Tony, uh-- I need to go make a phone call. You okay here on your own for a couple minutes?” Mr. Rhodey asks, climbing to his feet, wincing as he does.

Tony huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “ _Fine.”_ He hates it when adults don’t explain stuff. How’s he supposed to learn if they don’t explain? Grown-ups are so _frustrating._

Mr. Rhodey at least has the decency to look sorry as he leaves.

Knowing he shouldn’t, but hey, he’s curious, Tony silently makes his way towards the door and hovers, listening as Mr. Rhodey continues to say bad words as he dials someone’s number. Tony squints at the device Mr. Rhodey’s using. He’s never seen anything like that. Is it a kind of walkie-talkie?

“Pepper, we have a problem.”

Tony’s nose scrunches again. Pepper? That’s a goofy name, too.

“Tony… He… No, he’s okay, kind of… Pepper, he’s a _kid.”_

Tony frowns. Who’s this Pepper person, and why is Mr. Rhodey talking to them about him? Did he do something wrong again?

“No, I mean, he’s _literally_ five years old.”

Tony puffs his chest indignantly. He is six and four months, thank you very much.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I just walked into the workshop and there was this five-year-old--”

Six!

“--and he’s talking about his mom and dad and his aunt Peggy. It’s _Tony...”_

Well, no, duh. Why is Mr. Rhodey acting surprised that it’s Tony of all people? Mr. Rhodey doesn’t even know Tony. Why is he acting like he does, and why is he emphasizing the ‘kid’ part?

“No, it’s like he’s just jumped from then to now. He thought Steve was still in the ice, and he thinks that Maria and Howard are still…”

Tony shuffles closer to the door, frowning. His mom and dad are still what?

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t know how this happened, and he wants me to take him home to his parents. I can’t just tell him that I can’t do that!”

Letting out a quiet gasp, Tony steps away from the door, glaring at it. And why not? Tony frowns and walks away, not bothering to hear the rest of what Mr. Rhodey tells Pepper.  Tony’s small fists curl and uncurl. The six-year-old doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t know who can help him, and he doesn’t know why he’s even here. If Rhodey didn’t bring him here, who did?

“Sir? I would advise you to try to control your breathing.”

Tony startles at the familiar voice, spinning around to see… a red man. And not like how he hears and sees racist people on TV talk about Native Americans, but like, actually the color _red._

Tony takes a worried step back. The man looks like an alien, and his skin reminds Tony of the Red Skull, Captain America’s greatest enemy. Tony’s breath catches in his throat, making him do the exact opposite of what the red man told him to do.

“Who-- who are you? Wh- where did you c-come from?” Tony asks, his voice trembling. He stumbles backward, tripping over his own feet and falling onto the ground. A sharp pain shoots through his right arm, and he shouts. Tears burn his eyes as he whimpers, cradling his wrist.

“Tony? What happened?” Mr. Rhodey shouts, and the door swings open and footsteps thunder toward him.

Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying--

“Vision? What the fuck happened?”

Tony flinches at the yell. He doesn’t seem like Jarvis so much anymore.  Jarvis never raises his voice.

“Shit, Tones, I’m sorry,” Mr. Rhodey says hurriedly, carefully dropping to the ground next to Tony. Instinctively, Tony inches away. He feels bad about it when he sees Mr. Rhodey’s face fall, but he really, really doesn’t like shouting. Mr. Rhodey sighs. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It is my fault, Colonel Rhodes,” the red man says, sounding apologetic. “I believe I unintentionally startled Mr. Stark. I was… unaware of the situation, and I came up to ask Mr. Stark about dinner. However, I believe he was experiencing a minor anxiety attack when I entered. He tripped, landing on his right arm. I believe it may be broken.”

“Wh- why does he sound like Jarvisss?” Tony asks, his words slurring and stumbling. He’s biting his lip to stop himself from crying. Daddy will be mad if he cries. But Mr. Rhodey isn’t even gonna bring him home by the sound of it. And wait a minute, how did the red man already know Tony was there? Mr. Rhodey said that his dad wasn’t here. Is Mr. Rhodey lying to him?

“Oh, Tones, that’s a really long story,” Rhodey says, sighing. Tony hiccups, rubbing his good hand across his eyes roughly once again. “I’m sorry, Tony, I really am. Things are just really complicated right now. I promise, Vision doesn’t want to hurt you either.”

“It is true,” the other man says, kneeling down. He doesn’t come close to Tony, but he looks him firmly in the eyes. “I give my sincerest apologies to you, sir. I did not mean to startle you, I was simply meaning to help. I will announce my entrance in the future.”

Tony sniffs, looking at the red man-- what was his name again? Vision? “But how didja know I- I was here?” he asks, shifting on the floor. He gasps, squeezing his eyes shut because his arm really, really hurts. “Mr. Rhodey,” he whispers, looking up shyly. “My arm hurts a lot.” His voice is quiet, and he looks down in shame when he sees Mr. Rhodey’s frown deepen.

Mr. Rhodey places a hand on his shoulder, making Tony look up again. “We’re going to take you down to medical, okay?” he says. “Get that arm fixed up. We’ll try to explain things then.”

Gulping, Tony nods, and both Mr. Rhodey and Mr. Vision carefully help him stand. Slowly, they lead him to the elevator. Tony makes sure to watch his feet to make sure he doesn’t fall again.

“Friday, take us down to medical,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony looks around. No one else is there. Also, who would be named Friday? What’s with these people and weird names?

“Sure thing, Colonel Rhodes,” says a female voice, making Tony jump. He looks up at the ceiling, where the voice came from.

“Wha-? Did the elevator just _talk?”_ Tony asks, his jaw dropping.

Mr. Rhodey smiles, but it looks uncomfortable. “Sort of. That’s Friday, she’s an AI-- uh, artificial intelligence. She’s sort of in control of the whole building.”

Tony tilts his head. “Is she like a really big computer then?” he asks, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Who made her?”

“Through the mirror-covered walls, Tony can see Mr. Rhodey and Mr. Vision share a look with each other. He frowns. They’re doing that thing grown-ups do when they’re trying to talk silently just because a kid’s in the room.

“Uh,” Mr. Rhodey says, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’d know him.” By the way he’s talking slowly and sharing glances with Mr. Vision, though, even Tony can tell that Mr. Rhodey is lying. He huffs, rolling his eyes, but then the elevator doors open again, revealing several people in doctor’s coats bustling around.

“Dr. Cho!” Mr. Rhodey shouts, making Tony cringe.

A woman near the end of the hallway turns around, smiling brightly, but the smile drops when she spots Tony’s arm.

She hurries over as Mr. Rhodey and Mr. Vision gently nudge Tony out of the elevator. He doesn’t lift his gaze as the doctor crouches down to get a closer look at the arm. She doesn’t question why Tony’s there, instead just says, “Ooh, that doesn’t look good. You want to follow me? I’ll fix that up for you, okay?” With that, she stands up straight and begins walking towards the end of the hallway again. Tony doesn’t move at first, but Mr. Rhodey bends down, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, Tony, Dr. Cho wants to fix up your arm. She’s fixed hundreds of broken arms, she’ll do just fine, okay?”

Tony tentatively nods before scurrying towards Dr. Cho, who simply gives him a kind smile and holds the door open for him.

* * *

Now, Tony’s arm is in a cast and sling. It feels much better now, even if it’s a little itchy.

Mr. Rhodey and Mr. Vision are in another room, and he thinks they may be talking to that Pepper person.

He’s sitting in the same workshop he was in before, and honestly, it’s way cooler than Daddy’s. He’d never say that because then Daddy would be really, _really_ mad, but it’s true. There are these really cool cars that Tony’s never seen before, but even better than that, there’s robots that Mr. Rhodey had introduced him to earlier. Their names are Dum-E, Butterfingers, and U, all of which Tony thinks are also silly names.

The coolest thing, though, has to be the various sets of red and gold armor along the wall. They’re _awesome._ Mr. Rhodey acted weird earlier when Tony had asked about them, but now he could look at them even closer. They were super tall, about twice Tony’s height. He ran a small hand along the legs of the armor in the center, grinning widely. It’s so cool.

He wonders what it would be like to wear it. Obviously, it’d be way too big on him, but it’d be awesome. He wonders what it could do. It has a glass circle on its chest, and from what Tony can tell, it’s what powers the suit. He wonders what it’s made of. Would it run on a battery? Or would it operate on its own energy?

After staring at the suits for a while, Tony wanders around the lab. He carefully avoids the shield in the corner, because he still doesn’t know what to think about that. He denies a cup full of motor oil that Dum-E offers him, though he giggles at the effort and pats the robot’s claw.

He looks around at all the works-in-progress scattered around the room. There’s a couple gloves that have some sort of lights embedded in them. He touches a button on one of them, and the lights glow blue, some electricity sparking near the knuckles. He lets out a quiet yelp and drops the glove, choosing to leave it alone. He also notices a neat watch that, when he presses a button, unfolds and spreads into a cool gauntlet. Tony lets out a quiet gasp, picking up the gauntlet and turning it over in his hand. It’s clearly designed after the gauntlets of the armor. Whoever made this stuff was, if Tony dared admit it, even better than his dad.

He continues to look around, even picking through the drawers of the desks and tables. Mostly, it’s stuff he doesn’t care about, papers that look like publicity statements (which he’s seen plenty of because Daddy writes them a lot) and patents and designs, all with signatures that he can’t read. That’s another thing adults do. They sign their names really badly. Even Tony can sign his name in cursive and make it legible.

He is, though, intrigued by a device he finds shoved away in a desk near the shield. He doesn’t bother reading the crumpled paper beside it, and he picks up the device instead. He opens the thing and squints at the number pad on it. It kinda reminds him of the buttons on a telephone, but the buttons have letters on them too.

He presses a button near the top of the pad, one that doesn’t have anything on it, and the screen lights up. Tony lets out a quiet gasp. On the screen, it reads, “Contacts.” He presses the button again, and the screen’s contents change, now revealing the only option of the name “Steve.”

Frowning, Tony glances towards the door. There’s no sign of Mr. Rhodey appearing, or even Mr. Vision. He looks back at the device and his eyes catch on a button that has an icon that looks a lot like a telephone. His frown deepens, and he presses it.

He nearly drops the device as it starts emitting a noise, even if it’s quiet. It’s a faint ringing, and it sounds just like the noise the telephone makes at home. He squints at the device. Is this supposed to be a phone? With the icon and the number pad and the ringing, it sure seems a lot like a phone. But it’s so small!

He jumps again as the ringing stops and a voice says, “Hello?”

Tony’s eyes widen, and again, he nearly drops the device. It _is_ a phone! If such small phones exist, why isn’t everyone using them? They seem like they’d be really easy to carry around, so they’d be convenient. Has whoever works in this workshop just been keeping it to themselves?

“Hello?”

Oh! Oh, yeah. Tony puts the phone to his ear like he does with the telephone at home when he’s allowed to use it. “Hello?” he says, only moments later realizing that he’s supposed to say his name.

It’s quiet on the other line for a minute, before the man- Steve, he guesses, because that’s what the screen said- speaks again. “Is this a kid?” Oh, boy,  he sounds angry. Oh, no. “How did you get this phone?”

“I- uh, sorry, sir. I didn’t- I didn’t know I wasn’t s’posed to touch it. I’ve just never seen one of these before, and- and I didn’ know what it was. I, um, m’sorry if I bothered you, sir, I didn’ mean to--”

There’s a loud sigh, one similar to what Mama does when Tony’s being really frustrating. He cringes, sitting down on the ground. He’s careful not to hit his arm on anything. He looks at Mr. Rhodey’s signature on it, along with Mr. Vision’s and Dr. Cho’s. Tony can only read Mr. Vision’s.

“No, it- it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, kid. If you don’t mind me asking, though, how did you find this phone?”

“Uh,” Tony says, tucking his knees to his chest as he scoots to the wall. “I found it in a dr- draw-er?” He huffs, frustrated. He hates this word. “A _drawer._ It was next to a letter, but I didn’t care about that 'cause I already read a lot, even though Daddy says I’m never good enough,  I think I read way more and way better than most kids my age.” He realizes he’s rambling, and Daddy doesn’t like that, so he shuts up.

“Where are you?”

Tony huffs, staring at the ceiling. “I dunno. I woke up and I was in this place that I don’t know. But it’s super cool! There’s this super cool armor everywhere, and there’s even Cap’n America’s shield here! I don’t get why, because shouldn’t Cap’n America’s shield be with him? Except, Mr. Rhodey told me that Cap’n America isn’t frozen anymore! Did you know that? Did you know that Cap’n America isn’t frozen anymore?”

It’s quiet for a long time. “Are you in a workshop?”

Tony nods, bobbing his head up and down. He’s not sure how Mr. Steve knows that, but he tries not to let it bother him. “Yeah. Whoever works here must be super good, like, better than _Daddy,_ because even though he’s a super good inventor and scientist, this armor is _super_ cool. Oh, but don’t tell Daddy I said that.”

“Uh.” Tony waits for the man to gather his thoughts. He understands being unable to  figure out what to say. It happens to him a lot, especially around Daddy. “When you woke up in the workshop, was anyone there?”

Tony nods again. “Yeah. Well, not at first,” he amends, shaking his head. “I was really scared an’ confused, because I didn’ know how I got there, but then this man named Mr. Rhodey came inside and he was real confused, too, because _he_ didn’t know how I got there--”

Mr. Steve interrupts him (which is rude, according to Mama and Jarvis). “Rhodey? Colonel Rhodes is there?”

Oh, so this must be Mr. Rhodey’s phone. “Yeah, he’s in another room right now, but yeah. He’s trying to talk to Mr. Vision. They’re trying t’ figure something out to get me home.” He sighs, then adds, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh.” Tony waits. “Sure?”

“I peasdropped… no, that’s not right. I ea’sdropped on Mr. Rhodey. He was talkin’ to someone named Pepper. He said it was weird I was a kid, but he also said he can’t bring me home.” Suddenly realizing the gravity of those words, he lets out a small gasp, unable to catch his breath. “Wait a minute. I wanna go back home!  I wanna go home to Mama and Jarvis, and I think Daddy might actually miss me this time ‘cause now he’s not gonna be so focuses on finding Cap’n America, now that he isn’ frozen anymore. He’ll finally have his friend back.”

Tony hears Mr. Steve quietly repeat Jarvis’s name away from the phone, and then he says, “You- you said that your dad was friends with Captain America?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says enthusiastically. “Daddy made Cap’n America’s shield! And his uniform! An’ he was friends with Cap’n America and his friend Bucky! I used to have a Bucky Bear, but Daddy said I had to stop sleeping with toys, so now Aunt Peggy has it somewh-- what?” he asks when he hears Mr. Steve let out a choked sound. “Are you okay, Mr. Steve?”

It takes a minute for Mr. Steve to answer. “Yeah. Uh, I’m-- is this Tony?”

Eyes widening, Tony pulls the phone away and looks at it cautiously. “Uh, yeah? How do you know that?”

He hears Mr. Steve muttering to himself, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that Mr. Steve is saying the exact same stuff as Mr. Rhodey. He huffs. “Why do you guys keep acting surprised it’s me? And how do you know who I am anyway? Do you know my dad?”

He hears someone else on the other end of the line, someone other than Mr. Steve. He tries to listen to what Mr. Steve and the other person are saying, but it’s pretty tricky considering Steve has obviously pulled the phone away from himself.

Still, Tony can make out a little.

“…kid? I don’t… no, I’m serious!…”

“…sort of serum?”

“…HYDRA…”

Finding it slightly difficult to breathe, Tony decides to shut the phone. He doesn’t know why people are acting surprised about his age. He doesn’t know why they know who he is. Sure, people know his dad, and they know Tony is his son, but these people don’t seem to care about his dad, at least not Mr. Rhodey. They seem surprised by _Tony._

Tony jumps when he feels something touch his arm. He looks up and relaxes as he realizes it’s Dum-E, holding a glass of motor oil. Tony smiles, thanks Dum-E, and takes the glass before setting it down on the floor next to him.

Huffing, a little calmer now, but still confused and honestly, a little mad, Tony stands up and walks to the door.

He swings the door open, revealing Mr. Vision, Mr. Rhodey, and a lady with a lot of freckles, who he guesses is the Pepper person. The grown-ups, minus Mr. Vision, jump, and the freckled lady gasps.

“Mr. Rhodey, why is everyone weirded out by me being a kid?” Tony demands. Shouting is impolite, but he believes he has the right in this case. “Why do you guys keep being surprised that I’m Tony? First you, then this Pepper person, then Mr. Steve, and--”

“Wait, _Steve?”_  Mr. Rhodey repeats, looking angry. Tony steps back tentatively, frowning. “You talked to _Steve?_ When?”

“Rhodey,” Ms. Pepper starts, but Mr. Rhodey cuts her off.

“No, I’ve had enough of that man’s shit! Why the hell is he contacting Tony, and when he’s a kid?”

“What do you mean?” Tony shouts, his left fist curling up. “What do you mean ‘while I’m a kid?’ I’ve always been a kid! Tell me what’s going on!”

The adults stare at him in silence for a minute. Tony’s chest is heaving obnoxiously, and his breathing is noisy, but he’s really mad so he doesn’t even think about that too much. He just wants to know what’s happening.

Finally, Ms. Pepper speaks up, crouching down so she’s Tony’s height. (Tony doesn’t know how she’s doing that in her high heels.)

“Tony, we’ll tell you the truth, but I have to warn you, it’s going to sound very, very weird. But no matter how crazy it seems, it’s the truth.”

Tony looks at her skeptically. “Okay…” he says, putting his hand on his hip. “Try me.”

Ms. Pepper cracks a smile, while Mr. Rhodey starts laughing. Mr. Vision looks confused by their reactions, like Tony.

“What?” Tony demands, dropping his arm. “What’s so funny?”

Mr. Rhodey shakes his head, unable to stop smiling.

 _“What?”_ Tony repeats, leveling each of the adults with a glare.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ms. Pepper says, shaking her head, but she’s still smiling. Tony throws up his free hand. Jarvis and Mama do this a lot, too. Grown-ups are so weird. Ms. Pepper looks at the ceiling for a moment before returning her gaze to Tony.

“Okay, again, this will sound crazy. Tony… we can’t bring you home--”

“I know. I heard Mr. Rhodey,” Tony says, scrunching his eyebrows angrily.

Ms. Pepper nods. “Right, but it’s because… well, Tony, you’re not supposed to be here… like you are.”

Tony raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to explain. She isn’t making any sense.

Ms. Pepper sighs. “The year is 2016, Tony.”

The boy’s jaw drops. What?

Mr. Vision steps forward, kneeling down along with Ms. Pepper.

“Mr. Stark, we have no idea how it’s happened, but somehow your age has reversed from forty-six to… six.”

“And four months,” Tony adds, but it’s in an awed and quiet tone. They don’t even laugh this time, just quietly wait for his reaction.

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes. “That can’t happen,” he says, before looking back up at the adults. “That can’t happen. Prove it.”

Mr. Vision sighs. “I believe my voice is proof enough. You wonder why I sound like your butler, correct?” he asks.

Tony squirms uncomfortably, trying not to think about how much he wants to go home to his Jarvis. “Yeah?”

“Well,” Mr. Vision starts, his eyes looking at the ceiling instead of Tony. “In respect to him, you-- the older version of you, that is-- built an AI, much like FRIDAY, whom we heard in the elevator, and named him after Jarvis, even giving him the same voice. However, a year ago, that AI was destroyed, and I was created, giving me the AI JARVIS’s both voice and knowledge.”

Tony blinks at him for a moment. “Whaddya mean you were created?”

“I am no normal man, as I’m sure you can tell. I am a synthetic human, an… android, if you will.”

Tony’s jaw drops open again. “You mean like in comics?”

Mr. Vision’s lips quirk, just barely. “Yes, like in comics."

Tony nods, pondering this. Finally, he just says, “Cool.”

“Cool?” Mr. Rhodey repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Whaddya want me to say?” Tony asks throwing his left hand up. “You guys are talking crazy! You’re saying I’m s’posed to be a grown-up? I’m six! Sure, I’m smart--” _Not smart enough, yeah, but--_ “--But I’m not nearly as smart as a grown-up. Daddy says that I should be learning faster, I need t’ be more mature and work harder, I-- what?” Tony cuts himself off, looking at Mr. Rhodey, whose fists are clenching and shaking. “What’s wrong?” Tony asks, taking a small step back. He doesn’t think Mr. Rhodey’s gonna hit him, but he sure looks mad.

Mr. Rhodey and Ms. Pepper share a look that Tony doesn’t understand. “What?” he repeats.

Ms. Pepper shuts her eyes, sighs, then opens them again. “Nothing,” she says, but her voice is tight. “It’s just… Tony, you are very, very smart. You said you’re six, right?”

“And four months,” Tony adds, leveling her with a glare.

She nods seriously. “Right. You’d be extremely clever even if you were older than six and four months. I don’t care what Howard says, you are _more_ than enough. You are an incredible person, do you understand me?”

Tony frowns. What is Ms. Pepper talking about? Even if he’s supposed to be older, he doubts that Older-Him is ‘incredible.’ Tony can’t even make a robot. He tries and tries, but he keeps getting stuck and confused. According to Daddy, he should get it by now.

Huh. Well, that’s a peculiar thought.

Is Dad proud of Older-Him?

Is Older-Him anything like Dad?

Secretly, Tony sort of hopes he isn’t.

“Tones,” Mr. Rhodey says, after letting out a noisy sigh. “You know those suits that you liked so much? And Butterfingers, U, and Dum-E? And FRIDAY?”

Tony frowns, nodding.

“Tony, that’s all you. You made all that stuff. You are the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you are the most selfless--”

“Daddy says I’m selfish,” Tony interrupts. “He said so when I showed him my first circuit board, and again when I showed him my engine. I interrupted one of his meetings. I- I didn’t mean to be selfish, I didn’t mean to be a- attention-seeking, I just wanted Daddy to be proud of me, but I disobeyed him, and I--

Mr. Rhodey’s fists clench. Tony takes a step back, frowning but refusing to flinch. Flinching never helps anything.

Mr. Rhodey’s face falls, as do the rest of the adults, but Ms. Pepper shakes her head firmly. “No, Tony, your father is wrong. You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You’ve ended alien invasions, you’ve spent millions of dollars towards charities, you’re always creathing things to make people’s lives easier, you offered up your home to your friends, you save people’s lives, and despite thinking you know that’s best, you’re responsible enough to allow there to be liabilities for your actions.”

Tony scratches underneath his cast, thinking. Those things… _do_ sound sort of selfless…

He shakes his head. No. Dad’s the smartest perso there is, and if he doesn’t think Tony’s good enough, then he’s not good enough. Tony wishes he is, but he isn’t.

Tony sighs, deciding to drop the subject and avoid the well-meaning lies. “So who are you guys? If I’m s’posed to be old, I’m prob’ly s’posed to know who you are.”

Ms. Pepper sighs, glancng at the other adults before saying, “Well, I’m Pepper Potts. You appointed me the CEO of Stark Industries. You and I… wow, okay, this is weird. Older you and I used to date.”

“Was I not good enough?” Tony says, nodding sympathetically. “That’s okay. I get that.” By the confused looks on their faces, he has a feeling they’re not sure if he’s joking or not. (He is, mostly.)

“Uh,” Ms. Pepper says, “Too good, actually. You always saving the world stressed me out too much.”

Tony tilts his head. He really doesn’t believe that _he_ could save the world, but if they seemed to believe it, he supposes he shouldn’t take that away from them. Especially since hearing their claims does make his heart feel good. (Maybe not denying it is selfish.)

“‘Kay,” he says, turning to Mr. Rhodey. “And how do I know you?”

“We’ve been best friends since we went to MIT together.” He pulls something out of his pocket and swipes the screen with his finger. He then shows the screen to Tony, and now he’s facing a picture of a teenage him and a younger Mr. Rhodey. They’re standing next to a robot, who Tony recognizes as Dum-E.  Teenage-Him is giving a thumbs-up to the camera. On top of the picture is the current time and date in white text. Judging by the icon on the bottom of the screen, this thing is a phone, too.

Tony perks up, taking the device from Rhodey and looking at the screen closely. “I went to MIT?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Rhodey says, before snorting. “At fifteen.”

Tony’s eyes widen as he hands back the phone. _“Really?”_

Mr. Rhodey nods, smiling softly. “Yeah. Told you you were smart.”

Tony allows himself to give a proud smile. Maybe if he’s able to get into college at fifteen, he’s gonna be a lot smarter. Maybe Daddy will be happy with him.

“So… I made those suits?” Tony clarifies, glancing behind him towards the workshop.

Mr. Rhodey grins a little wider. “Sure did.”

Tony’s feet shift slightly, and he glances again. “How?”

“I have no idea,” Mr. Rhodey confesses, shaking his head. “I’ve got one, and I have no idea how you made them.”

“You do? Which one?” Tony asks, already hurrying back into the workshop, the adults trailing behind. He runs to the suits, trying to guess which one is Mr. Rhodey’s.

Mr. Rhodey shakes his head, walking to stand beside Tony. “Mine isn’t here. Hey, FRIDAY, bring up a picture of War Machine?”

A picture of a bulkier, grey and silver equivalent of the other suits pops up out of thin air in front of Tony, who jumps with a quiet gasp. His jaw drops and he reaches a hand through the picture. “Whoa…” he says, before plunging his head right into the center of the suit’s chest, making Mr. Rhodey start laughing. Ms. Pepper covers her mouth and tries to hide a giggle as well. A smile simply tugs at the corners of Vision’s mouth.

“This is so cool,” Tony says, awestruck, sticking his hand in and out of the hologram, which he’s only ever seen on cartoons. “Are there other pictures?” Tony asks, staring. “Hey! What do I look like? When I’m old?”

“I’m older than you are normally, and I’m getting a little offended you keep calling us old,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony simply raises his eyebrows. Mr. Rhodey can _not_ deny that he’s old.

When Tony looks back towards the picture of War Machine, it switches to a picture of a man. Tony looks closely at him. He looks sorta like Dad, but a little younger and more friendly-looking. “So that’s me when I’m big?” he asks, because if Mr. Rhodey doesn’t like the word “old,” he supposes he’ll stop to be nice.

“I mean,” Mr. Rhodey says, “Big is a relative term. Older you is still pretty short.”

Tony groans, making the grown-ups chuckle. He _hates_ being short! He wants to be able to reach high things and he wants Jarvis to mark his Captain America measuring chart more often. He wants his head to at least hit higher than the top of Cap’s shield. He’s only at the bottom of it right now.

Tony looks at the picture again, and he squints, frowning. “My beard is weird,” he says, glaring at the offending facial hair.

Mr. Rhodey starts laughing very loudly, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder for support as he clutches his stomach. Tony can’t help but grin, even if he doesn’t think he was very funny.

“Oh, man,” Mr. Rhodey says, wiping his eyes once he’s calmed down. “I am _so_ telling older-you that you said that.”

“Why do I like it?” Tony says, tilting his head, but Mr. Rhodey shrugs, shaking his head.

“I have no clue. If it makes you happy, though, whatever.”

That makes Tony feel fuzzy, despite Mr. Rhodey’s dismissive tone. The words feel nice. He doesn’t hear words like that often.

Mr. Rhodey lets out a surprised noise as Tony attacks his legs with a hug. Mr. Rhodey stumbles backwards, and Vision rushes forward to catch him. Tony gasps, immediately stepping back. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to--!”

Mr. Rhodey calls after him, but Tony doesn’t really hear him. He runs into the elevator and hits a random button. The adults are hurrying after him, but the doors close before they can get to him.

Tony falls onto the floor, shaking slightly. He continues to mumble apologies under his breath. He didn’t mean to! He just wanted to hug Mr. Rhodey because he’s so nice, a lot nicer than Daddy, but Tony _hurt_ him.

Tony lets out another quiet gasp as he starts to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

He’s interrupted by the Irish voice he heard in the elevator before.  “Hey, boss, can you hear me? Can you pay attention to my voice?”

Tony lets out a small “wha-?” before looking at the ceiling.

“That’s good. Colonel Rhodes-- Rhodey-- is fine, little boss. He certainly isn’t mad at you.”

“B-but I hurt ‘im,” Tony whimpers, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. “I hurt him.”

“No, you didn’t,” FRIDAY corrects. “Rhodey is fine. Did you notice the metal braces on his legs?”

Tony nods.

“You made those for him so he would be able to walk. They work brilliantly, but they’re also new, so he doesn’t have his balance fully back yet. The force of your hug is what made him stumble. He is absolutely fine. I assure you, Rhodey is _not_ mad at you.”

Tony pauses before saying quietly, “Are you sure?”

“One-hundred percent. And trust me, I’m great with numbers.”

Tony allows himself to breathe. “Okay.”

“Will you allow me to take you back to them now?” FRIDAY asks. “They’re very worried.”

Tony hesitates, before nodding slowly. “Okay, let’s go.”

Tony thinks that the AI might be smiling if she could as she says, “Of course, little boss.”

The boy stays curled up as the elevator moves back up to the workshop. He watches the doors open and the grown-ups’ immediate sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God,” Ms. Pepper says, hurrying towards him, her heels clacking loudly on the floor. Tony’s eyes widen as he’s scooped off the ground. He lets out a surprised squeak as Ms. Pepper hugs him super tight.

He doesn’t know what to say. No one’s picked him up and hugged him like this for as long as he can remember. Jarvis can’t pick him up because he’s old, and even if he could, Daddy would probably get angry if he saw.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles, because when all else fails, an apology might work.

Except the grown-ups just shake their heads. “No one is mad at you, Tony,” Ms. Pepper tells him, setting him down carefully. He already misses the hug.

Mr. Rhodey squats down to look at Tony. He places his hands on Tony’s shoulders gently, and Tony looks at him with eyes that are still a little watery.

“Tones, I’m not upset with you. Okay? It was just an accident. I didn’t see your hug coming, and it surprised me. I’m not hurt, and I’m not mad at you.”

Tony nods slowly, not really believing Mr. Rhodey, but then Mr. Rhodey opens his arms. “I’m ready for a hug now, though.”

Tony grins before rushing forward and throwing his left arm around Mr. Rhodey. The man chuckles, wrapping Tony in his arms tightly. Tony mutters another apology, letting his chin rest over Mr. Rhodey’s shoulder.

“Hey, I told you, it’s _fine,”_ Mr. Rhodey says, leaning away just enough so Tony can see his face. “I’m fine, and it was an accident anyway, right?”

Tony nods quickly. “I _promise,”_ he says earnestly, his eyes wide. Mr. Rhodey smiles, clapping his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Right, so there’s no need to be sorry. Thank you, though. I appreciate it.” He glances at Mr. Vision and Ms. Pepper before looking back at Tony. “Now, what do you say to having some dinner? Vis makes some mean chicken parmesan.”

Tony immediately straightens, grinning brightly. “Hey, so does Jarvis!” He immediately parts from Mr. Rhodey and latches onto Mr. Vision instead. “Let’s go! I can help,” he boasts, dragging Mr. Vision to the elevator, who simply chuckles.

* * *

Two days later, Tony’s drawing one of the suits using crayons (it’s a little tricky, using his left hand), when he hears, “Colonel Rhodes, Peter is here,” from FRIDAY.

On cue, Tony hears the elevator doors open. “Colonel Rhodes? What’s the emerg...en...cy?” Tony looks up to see a teenager staring at him. The boy has brown hair that’s a little lighter than Tony’s, and it’s sorta curly. He’s also wearing this weird red and blue suit that kinda look like pajamas.

“Peter!” Mr. Rhodey exclaims cheerfully, standing up from the couch where he’s been watching Tony color. “Thanks for coming. I really need to-”

“Uh… Why… Why is there a little kid here?” Peter says, his eyebrows furrowed. He looks around the room. “And where’s Mr. Stark? What’s--?”

Tony scrambles off the floor, dropping his crayons. Mr. Rhodey also stands up, grunting as he does. “Peter, meet the de-aged Tony. Tony, meet Peter.”

Peter’s jaw drops, his eyes going super wide. He looks kinda funny.

“De-aged?” Peter repeats, but his voice is faint as he says it. He’s staring at Tony in shock.

“Not sure what happened, but Vision and FRIDAY are working on figuring it out. Going over all the security footage, discussing it with Doctor Cho. He’s also been contacting Doctor Strange in case this is a weird magic thing. Anyway, Tony’s been turned back to his six-year-old-self.” At Tony’s pointed look, he adds seriously, “Sorry. Six and four months.”

Tony nods, satisfied. He turns to Peter, smiling. He reaches out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meetcha, Mr. Peter.”

Peter breaks out in a grin at his words for some reason, shaking Tony’s hand. “ _Mr._ Peter?” he repeats, an incredulous smile on his face.

Tony squints at him, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Yeah. You’re bigger than me, so you’re a mister.” He then scans Peter up and down, looking at him curiously. “Why are you wearing PJs?”

Mr. Rhodey starts laughing, while Mr. Peter looks sorta amused and sorta offended at the same time. “Uh. They’re not PJs.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow, and next to him, Mr. Rhodey chuckles.

Mr. Peter scratches his neck. “Uh, it’s my suit. I’m, um, I’m a superhero?” he explains, but Tony thinks he doesn’t sound very sure.

“Well, are you or not?” Tony questions.

“Uh, I am.”

“Then why d’you make it sound like a question? Daddy says that you always gotta sound confident, or no one will take you seriously.”

Mr. Peter nods, blinking. “That’s good advice.”

“Daddy _also_ says that if you’re gonna be confident and sure about something, then it better be perfect, or it’s jus’ useless,” Tony says, quietly now, getting distracted. He wonders when he’ll go home to Daddy and Mama and Jarvis. Well, technically, he guesses he won’t. He’ll just be turned back into his older self. Still, he misses Jarvis. And Mama, too, but Jarvis, especially. Jarvis would listen to this whole story, tell Tony that he’s been on quite the adventure, and tell him that he’s very glad that he’s home safe.

“That… is not good advice,” Mr. Peter says, his eyebrows furrowing as a frown appears on his face.

Tony shrugs, then focuses on what Mr. Peter said earlier. “So you’re a superhero? What are your powers?” he asks, grinning.

Mr. Peter still looks slightly distracted by Tony’s previous statement, but he nods slowly. “Uh, yeah. Um, I can shoot spiderwebs, climb walls, uh… I’m really strong, I guess.”

Tony grins. “Can you lift me?”

Mr. Rhodey snorts, and the corner of Peter’s mouth twitches. “I think I could lift you even without the spider-enhanced powers, buddy.”

Tony raises his eyebrows again. “You sure? You look pretty scrawny.”

Mr. Rhodey lets out a loud cackle, and Mr.  Peter’s jaw drops. “I--” he start to protest, and Tony begins to giggle.

“I’m just kidding,” he says, then looks at Mr. Rhodey pointedly and shakes his head. Mr. Rhodey laughs, while Mr. Peter just gapes at him. Tony continues to giggle as Mr. Rhodey places a hand on his shoulder as he bends over.

“Kid, you are my absolute favorite,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony absolutely _beams._ No one has _ever_ said that about Tony-- never _ever._

Mr. Peter just shakes his head, but he’s smiling, so Tony knows that Mr. Peter isn’t hurt by his jokes. He’s glad, because Mr. Peter already seems pretty nice.

“Okay, okay, we’re getting off-track,” Mr. Rhodey says, tugging Tony just a little closer, and the smile on Tony’s face grows.  “Pepper’s got meetings all day, Vision, like I said, is working on finding what caused this and a solution, and I’ve got a PT meeting to go to, so I need someone to watch Tony for a while.”

The smile _immediately_ drops from Mr. Peter’s face. “Wait. You want me to _babysit_ him?” he asks, his eyes wide.

Tony frowns at Mr. Peter’s complete aversion towards the idea. Is Tony really that bad?

Mr. Rhodey frowns, looking at Mr. Peter strangely. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Colonel Rhodes, I’m not capable of this. I have _no_ babysitting experience; how am I supposed to take care of him? Even worse, he’s a genius!” Tony twitches at the use of the word ‘worse.’

“Wouldn’t that make it easier?” Mr. Rhodey questions, and Tony watches the debate with interest.

“What if he’s devious? My friend Ned once babysat these devil kids once--”

“Kid, trust me,” Mr. Rhodey interrupts, giving Mr. Peter a look that Tony _knows_ means _shut-up-right-now-or-you’ll-regret-it_. Daddy aims that face at him a lot. “Tony is _not_ gonna be one of those devil kids.”

Mr. Peter shares a look with Mr. Rhodey, and Tony knows that it’s another one of those secret-adult-conversations, even though Mr. Peter’s not even technically a grown-up.

“You’ll be fine,” Mr. Rhodey says finally. “I have complete faith in both of you.” He glances at Tony and gives him a wink. “Have fun, kiddo. You should show Pete your drawings while I’m gone.” He reaches out and ruffles Tony’s hair, earning a disgruntled huff in response.

“Be back in a few hours,” he says over his shoulder, before he disappears into the elevator.

Mr. Peter slowly turns to Tony, looking nervous.

Uh, okay…  So, your drawings?”

Tony smiles, grabs Mr. Peter’s hand, and tugs him over to his drawings on the floor. He plops onto the floor, and Peter follows suit. His eyes widen slightly as he looks across Tony’s work. “Wow. These are really good,” he says.

“Thanks, Mr. Peter!” Tony beams.

Mr. Peter chuckles, looking back at Tony. “I love hearing the _mister,_ really, but it’s too weird. Just Peter, okay?”

Tony raises a doubtful eyebrow, before shrugging and looking back at his drawings. “They’re ‘parently my suits,” he says, and Just Peter confirms this with a nod. “They look really cool. Older me must be pretty smart. It operates on an arc reactor! _Daddy_ doesn’t even know how to use the energy from an arc reactor, and older-me did it!”

Peter nods, looking back at Tony. “Yeah, you’re really smart, Tony. Older-you, but also six-years-and-four-months-you, too.”

Tony disagrees, so he immediately shakes his head vehemently, looking at the floor. “Well, _that’s_ not true. I’m not very smart at all.”

He feels a touch on his shoulder, and he looks up to see that Peter’s gently resting his hand there. “Yeah, Tony, you are. I mean, just look at these!” Peter picks up the drawing on top, the drawing of Mark XLVII. “This is crazy accurate. You’ve got the proportions just right and everything.”

Tony frowns. “That’s not smart, though. That’s jus’ drawing.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Tony, being able to draw these so accurately just shows how your brain works. You take in everything detail by detail, and you’re always taking in all the information you can. You know, you’re world-renowned as a genius. You always have been.”

Tony tilts his head. “I am?”

Peter nods quickly. “Yes! You’ve always been viewed as a prodigy. You built your first circuit board when you were _four._ And… hey, you’re six; have you made that engine yet?”

Tony nods slowly.

Peter breaks out in a grin, scooting closer to Tony. “You see? That’s really smart, Tony. No other kids can do that. You’re a genius, doesn’t matter how old you are. You are unbelievably smart.”

Tony is silent for a moment, his eyes burning for some reason. “But Daddy says--”

“Tony-- and don’t tell Colonel Rhodes or Miss Potts I said this-- fuck what your dad says.”

Tony’s head snaps up to Peter, gasping, about to scold him for saying such a bad swear, but he stops short when he sees the fiery look in Peter’s eyes. He looks like he’s telling the truth, like he really believes what he’s saying.

“Tony, your dad says a lot of lousy things. He doesn’t appreciate you for who you are, and that really sucks, because he’s missing out on a lot. You have an incredible mind and personality, and I just don’t get how he wouldn’t look at you at any time and be crazy proud.”

Tony’s bottom lip wavers, and he doesn’t know what to say. Because… because people don’t just _say_ things like that. That just isn’t what happens. He doesn’t know why Peter’s saying this. He doesn’t know why Peter seems to believe in him so much, and for that matter, he doesn’t get why Mr. Rhodey, Ms. Pepper, and Mr. Vision seem to believe in him too. Because he’s just Tony, and he’s never been good enough, so why is he good enough for them?

“C’mere,” Peter says, gesturing with his arms for a hug. Tony shuffles over and allows Peter to hold him close. He feels Peter rest his chin on his head. Tony sniffles, and snot is definitely running from his nose, but he can’t quite seem to care too much as Peter tells him that he _is_ okay and that he’s more than enough. Besides when he’s with Jarvis, Tony’s never felt so warm and loved. Like Jarvis, Peter is a friend, and Tony has a feeling that he might just be family too.

* * *

Three hours later, Mr. Rhodey walks in to find… Tony and Peter clinging to the ceiling. Or rather, Peter clinging to the ceiling with Tony secured to his torso with webs.

“Get. Down,” he says, and Tony shrieks as Peter immediately swings down from the ceiling, smiling sheepishly.

“He wanted to see how my powers worked.”

“They’re super cool!” Tony exclaims, prying himself off of Peter. “Mr. Rhodey, he shoots webs! From his _hands!”_

“Well, technically, from my web-shooters. It doesn’t actually come from my hands. I made the webs and the shooters.”

“That’s super cool, too!” Tony says, jumping up and down, and Mr. Rhodey’s mouth twitches.

Peter grins and gives Tony a high-five, whose smile is the biggest it’s ever been. Peter is _super_ awesome. After their emotional moment earlier, Peter had signed Tony’s cast (his handwriting isn’t great, but it’s better than most of the grown-ups’) and then played Monopoly, Jenga, and Cluedo. Peter won Jenga, but Tony won both Monopoly and Cluedo. He knows that Peter didn’t let him win either, because Peter kept getting really frustrated during Monopoly because he kept landing in jail and Tony kept getting really lucky chance cards. He even flipped over the board when he had to give up the last of his money, and Tony had instantly turned into a fit of laughter.

“So you guys had a good time?” Mr. Rhodey guesses, and Tony nods vehemently.

“Oh, yeah. Peter’s awesome! He’s really ncie an’ he’s really smart, even if he _is_ pretty bad at Monopoly--”

Peter squawks, and Tony simply giggles, clinging onto his leg.

Mr. Rhodey smirks. “Yeah, but you’re also scarily good. Nice to know you’re still a master when you’re tiny.”

“Hey, I’m not tiny,”  Tony protests, even though he knows he is.

“You’re kinda tiny,” Peter says, and Tony huffs, rolling his eyes, which leads to Peter and Mr. Rhodey chuckling.

“You guys are rude,” Tony says, shaking his head, and that just makes them laugh more.

Just as Tony’s about to ask Mr. Rhodey how his physical therapy was, because he looks awfully sweaty, FRIDAY chimes in: “I hate to interrupt, but it seems there is a phone ringing in the workshop.”

“A phone?” Mr. Rhodey repeats. “And it’s not linked to you, FRIDAY?”

“Correct. I believe it is the phone our little boss accidentally used to contact Captain Rogers.”

Tony perks up. “Cap’n Rogers? Cap’n _Steve_ Rogers?” That’s who I talked to?” He gasps. “I talked to _Captain America?_ Whoa!” He makes a run for the elevator, but Peter quickly scoops him up before he can get to it. Tony squirms as Peter and Mr. Rhodey share another one of those dumb _looks._ “Hey! Lemme go!”

“Tony, you need to calm down,” Mr. Rhodey says, but Tony ignores him and keeps kicking.

“Lemme talk to Cap’n America! Wait, I have his shield! He needs it! I need to give Cap’n America his shield back! Lemme go!” Peter doesn’t let go. Ugh, Tony really isn’t a fan of the spider-enhanced strength right now. “Why won’t you let me talk to him?” he demands.

“Tony, things are complicated,” Mr. Rhodey says, sighing. He looks super tired, making him look even older than he already is.

“Yeah, I’m six instead of bein’ a grown-up, I know that. I don’t get--”

“Captain America has broken the law,” Peter interrupts, and Tony feels him relax as he stops fighting. He hears Mr. Rhodey sigh.

“What do you mean?” he asks quietly. “Captain America doesn’t break the law.”

“Well, he did,” Peter said. “You told me he meant well, but talking to him is not a good idea right now. It could get you in trouble, and we really don’t want that.”

“Why did he break the law?” Tony asks, his voice sounding sort of distant to his own ears. Captain America isn’t a bad guy.

“He wanted to help his friend, and he felt the need to break some rules to do it.”

“What friend?”

Mr. Rhodey and Peter share a look. Tony’s eyes narrow. “What friend?” he asks again, his voice more demanding.

Mr. Rhodey sighs. “Sergeant Barnes.”

Tony’s jaw drops. “ _Bucky?_  He’s _alive?_ How?” He pauses, his mind moving a mile a minute. “But why would he need help? And why would Cap’n America have to break the law to save ‘im?”

Mr. Rhodey slides a hand down his face. “It’s a really long story, kid. Rogers didn’t--”

“ _Captain_ Rogers,” Tony corrects.

“Captain Rogers,” Mr. Rhodey says, but his teeth are gritted and he looks a little mad. Tony frowns. Mr. Rhodey doesn’t seem to like Captain Rogers, but how could _anyone_ not like Captain America? “Captain Rogers did not listen when people offered him help. He felt the need to do it his own way, even if he broke the law. That means _he_ needs to deal with this himself.”

Tony frowns, and he stares at the floor. “So… I can’t talk to him?”

Mr. Rhodey sighs, and he shakes his head. “No, that really wouldn’t be good for you right now,” he says, sounding sorry. “Plus, you two aren’t really on the best of terms right now.”

Tony deflates. Oh, no. Daddy is gonna _kill_ him. Captain America doesn’t like him? He must have really messed up, because Captain America doesn’t just go around hating anyone. Tony knows he’s not real smart, knows he’s never been good enough, but he never thought he’d be so bad that _Steve Rogers_ wouldn’t like him.

“What did I do?” he asks quietly, kicking his shoes against the carpet.

Beside him, Peter stiffens, and he looks up to see him frowning. Mr. Rhodey looks the same way, looking angry and frustrated. “Tony, _no._ It isn’t your fault,” Peter says, crouching down so he’s Tony’s height. “Don’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. You know, that’s something older-you still hasn’t learned.”

“It was Steve who screwed up, Tones,” Mr. Rhodey says, lowering himself onto the couch. “You did everything you could to keep things good between you two, even when he was being stupid and refusing to listen to you.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Captain America is _not_ stupid.” He crosses his arms.

“The point _is,”_ Mr. Rhodey says, shaking his head, “You need to stop blaming yourself immediately. I know it’s kind of been drilled into your head, but not everything is your fault.”

“But Daddy says I gotta take responsibil’y for my actions,” Tony says, slumping his shoulders.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter says. “Remember what I told you about your dad?”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Yeah. You shouldn’ say that word, y’know.”

Mr. Rhodey groans. “Peter, what did you say?” he asks, but Tony doesn’t think that’s very fair, because he’s heard Mr. Rhodey say lots of bad words, too.

“I was making a point about Howard!” Peter says, holding his hands up in defense.

“You could have done it _without_ swearing.”

“Well, yeah, but it helps get the point across if you--”

Tony rolls his eyes and flops on the ground, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, he feels like he is not the only six-year-old in the room.

* * *

“What on _earth_ are you writing down?” Peter demands, looking very ready to throw the pen and paper in his hands across the room.

Tony ducks his head, curling up and pulling his own paper, supported by a tablet, closer to his body. He gives Peter a suspicious look. “Nothing,” he says.

“No!” Peter denies, pointing an accusatory finger. “What are you writing? How did you get any information from that?”

“Peter, calm down,” Mr. Rhodey says, giving the teenager a wide-eyed look.

“But--” Peter sputters, throwing his hands down, and Tony has to hold back a giggle.

He leans toward Mr. Rhodey. “I _told_ you he was bad.”

Mr. Rhodey laughs while Peter pretends to glare at Tony. “Kid, I think you’re just freakishly god. I don’t know what you’re writing down either.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not even _hard,”_ he says, looking down at his paper. He allows a little smirk. He’s almost got this. He just needs to strike one more room.

“No, no, I know that look! _Rhodey,”_ Peter whines, and Tony does giggle this time, grinning.

“Mr. Rhodey, I ‘spect Professor Plum, in the billiard room, with the pipe.”

Mr. Rhodey narrows his eyes. “I can’t deny.”

Peter groans and throws down a card, and Tony immediately grabs it and peeks. He keeps a poker face, but his feet kick a little underneath the table. He passes the card back, and Peter glares at him suspiciously.

“You have it, don’t you?” he says, and Tony shrugs.

“I dunno,” he says looking at the board and attempting to look casual.

Mr. Rhodey huffs, and he rolls the dice. He moves Colonel Mustard to the library. “Uh…” He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling. “I don’t know. Me, library, pipe.”

Peter passes over a card, Mr. Rhodey looks at it and hands it back, and he writes something down. Peter rolls the dice and moves Ms. Peacock to the study. “Plum, study, pipe.”

Tony passes Peter his Plum card, and Peter groans. “No, I knew that!” he whines, slamming his pen down on the table.

Tony smirks. “I _accuse…”_ he said slowly, and Peter groans while Mr. Rhodey rolls his eyes. “... Mr. Green, in the conservatory, with the candlestick.”

Mr. Rhodey and Peter glare at Tony as he picks up the envelope in the middle of the board and carefully opens it. He pulls out the cards and grins widely, placing the cards down on the table for the others to see. Peter sighs heavily, throwing his card down. “I give up!” he says. “I can’t beat you! Not once!” He spins on Mr. Rhodey. “He’s cheating!”

“Peter, he’s six,” Mr. Rhodey says, raising an eyebrow. Peter just huffs and stands up, heading into the living room. Tony follows him and watches Peter collapse onto the couch, grabbing the remote

“Cheater,” Peter repeats, and Tony grins before diving on top of Peter, who lets out a loud _oof!_

“Dude!” he whines, and Tony just giggles and rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

This is the most fun he’s had _ever._ Peter and Mr. Rhodey are just the best (and so is Ms. Pepper, when she isn’t working). They play games with Tony all the time, and they let him watch the shows he likes, and they never yell at him like Daddy does. They even let him play in the lab, though they make sure he doesn’t do anything too dangerous.

Tony suddenly explodes into giggles as he feels Peter’s fingers jab into his sides. He twists and squirms, trying to avoid the tickling hands. “S-stop!” he gasps, laughing loudly. “Stop!” he repeats, kicking his feet, but he’s careful to avoid actually hitting Peter. He rolls over and starts batting his hands at Peter’s sides, which makes him start to laugh, too.

Tony tries to pry Peter’s arms away from him, but Peter’s a lot stronger than him, so they don’t budge. Tony gasps a little, trying to catch his breath as it once again escapes in a cackle.

“I c-can’t breathe,” he says, but he’s grinning as he says it. He attempts to pry Peter’s arms away once more, but quickly gives up and falls limp, his arms and legs jerking as Peter continues to tickle his stomach.

Peter finally relinquishes the torture, and Tony lets out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally!” he says, and he tilts his head to look at Mr. Rhodey, who’s smiling at them from the doorway.

“C’mon, Mr. Rhodey,” he says, “Lie on top of Peter.”

He giggles as Peter makes an indignant squawk. “I am not a cushion!”

“You feel like one to me!” Tony says, turning on his side so he can look at Mr. Rhodey better. He has a big, goofy smile on his face. “What?” Tony asks, propping himself up on an elbow. (Peter makes another _oof_ noise.)

Mr. Rhodey shakes his head, grinning. “Nothing,” he says, before walking over and sitting on the couch at Peter’s feet. Tony tries to reach him with a foot, but he’s too short, so he just smiles at him instead.

Tony sighs happily and twists to look at the ceiling again. “This is the best place ever. I never wanna leave.”

He yelps as Peter reaches up and ruffles his hair. “Hey!”

“Oh, please, it’s not like it wasn’t a rat’s nest before,” Peter says, rolling his eyes, and Tony huffs. Just for that, he lifts his body up with his arms and legs before letting it fall back on Peter, making him grunt and try to push him off, but Tony clings onto his shirt with a tight grip, only swaying. Peter finally gives up and falls limp, shaking his head while Mr. Rhodey laughs.

Tony looks over at Mr. Rhodey, who’s shaking his head fondly. Tony shifts and scoots over so most of his weight is on Peter’s legs. He leans back and his head falls against Mr. Rhodey’s shoulder. Mr. Rhodey smiles and places an arm across Tony’s shoulders, twisting his body so he can fit more comfortably.

Tony looks over at Peter, who grins and carefully removes his legs from underneath Tony. Then, he moves so he’s sitting up. He scoots over so Tony is tucked against both Peter and Mr. Rhodey. He melts between them, smiling.

He feels all warm and fuzzy.

* * *

For the next few days, it’s like Tony is in Disneyland. He thinks, anyway. He’s never been to Disneyland. He’s the happiest he’s ever been, and Peter comes around as much as he can without his aunt May getting suspicious. Tony overheard Mr. Rhodey ask once if Peter was getting any homework done, but Peter had just shrugged. Tony had narrowed his eyes, but relaxed a bit when he said, “I can get it done on the bus.” Hearing that, Tony felt better. He doesn’t want Peter getting in trouble just for spending time with him.

Over the past few days, FRIDAY has had to repeatedly report to them that Captain Rogers was calling Tony. Each time, Mr. Rhodey would deny the call and Tony would frown and wish he knew what Captain America had done.

Now, Tony’s sitting at the kitchen table, drawing a picture. Peter keeps trying to peek over Tony’s shoulder, but Tony quickly throws his entire body across the drawing, hiding it from view. “No! You don’t get to see!” he says, giving Peter the stink-eye.

Peter chuckles and raises his arms in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he says, going back to sit at the island. He presses play on the holographic display of Pirates of the Caribbean he’s watching. Tony’s never heard of it, but he thinks that Jack Sparrow guy is funny.

Mr. Rhodey is standing at the stove, making a pot of macaroni and cheese. Tony _loves_ macaroni and cheese. He has it on weekends sometimes when Jarvis makes him lunch, and it’s his absolute favorite. Mr. Rhodey makes it weird, using a bunch of orange powder, but it tastes real good so Tony doesn’t care.

Tony looks back down at his drawing and continues, picking up a black crayon. He draws careful lines, trying to keep the drawing as neat as he can. He wants this one to be perfect.

He picks up a red crayon and carefully draws a hand. He doesn’t want it to be a balloon hand, but hands are super hard to draw, and he messes them up all the time. He sucks in a big breath, trying to get the fingers perfect.

“You’re turning blue, Tony,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony instinctively moves his arms to hide the drawing.

He narrows his eyes. “Am not.”

Mr. Rhodey raises his eyebrows. “Maybe, but you need to breathe, kiddo.”

Tony scowls, but he tries to make his breathing normal. He huffs and moves to draw the other hand. He lifts his left hand and looks at it. He bends his middle and ring fingers down, but keeps his thumb, pointer, and pinky extended. He twists his arm so his fingers are pointed to himself. He stares at his hand for a minute, before copying down the image onto the page.

As he continues drawing, stopping to copy the gesture every once in awhile, he listens to Peter laugh every once in awhile, often repeating the line he finds funny multiple times. Tony glances up at one point when Peter repeats the line _five_ times, and he sees Mr. Rhodey looking amused. He catches Tony looking at him and jerks his head towards Peter, rolling his eyes. Tony gives him a small grin, ducking his head back down to continue his drawing.

After about five more minutes, when Tony’s almost done with his drawing, Mr. Rhodey says, “Okay, Gene Simmons, it’s time for lunch.”

Tony’s nose scrunches up. “Gene Simmons? Isn’ he that creepy clown guy?”

“Clown?” Mr. Rhodey repeats, raising his eyebrows. “I mean-- he’s not…”

“Who’s Gene Simmons?” Peter asks, twisting his seat to look questioningly at Mr. Rhodey and Tony.

“He’s a creepy clown. I saw him on the news one time.”

“No, he’s the bass guitarist of Kiss,” Mr. Rhodey corrects.

“But he’s _creepy.”_

“It’s just a thing--”

“Why’d you call Tony Gene Simmons then?” Peter asks, tilting his head.

“Because Tony was sticking his tongue out, and Simmons does this weird tongue thing--”

“I was not!”

“You were. You have been the entire time you’ve been drawing. Speaking of which, are you done yet? You’ve been at it for half an hour.”

Tony narrows his eyes, quickly folding up the paper. “No. Almost, but not yet. You can’t see it,” tucking the drawing underneath himself so he’s sitting on it. The corners of Mr. Rhodey’s mouth twitch slightly as he sets down a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of Tony.

Tony grins, making a grabby hand for the silverware in Mr. Rhodey’s hands. Mr. Rhodey rolls his eyes and hands over the… fork.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Why are you giving me a fork? You eat mac ‘n’ cheese with a spoon, Mr. Rhodey.”

Mr. Rhodey’s eyebrows scrunch downward. “What? No, kid, you eat it with a fork.”

 _“No,_ you eat it with a _spoon.”_ Tony crosses his arms, staring at Mr. Rhodey. Is he crazy?

“No, you eat it with-- Peter, back me up?” Mr. Rhodey says, turning to Peter, but the teenager just shrugs.

“I just use whatever. School gives us sporks every day, so--”

“Sporks are stupid!” Tony interrupts vehemently.

Mr. Rhodey snorts before nodding. “There’s one thing you and your older self agree on.”

“Just use a fork and a spoon! It’s not hard!” Tony says, throwing his hand on the table.

“Whoa, okay, you’re good. We don’t have any sporks,” Mr. Rhodey says, holding his hands up peacefully, eyeing Tony carefully.

Tony huffs as Peter pulls a spoon from the dishwasher. He hands it over to Tony before sitting down across from him with his own bowl of macaroni.

Tony grins as he digs into the macaroni. It tastes a lot different than Jarvis’s, but it’s still tasty. “Thanks, Mr. Rhodey,” he says around a spoonful.

Mr. Rhodey rolls his eyes in the way he always does with Tony, when he doesn’t really seem annoyed, not like Dad. “No problem, Tones,” he says.

“Y’know,” Peter says, scooping up his lunch, “When I was a kid, I would always have hot dog octopuses with my mac and cheese.”

Tony and Mr. Rhodey look up slowly. “A what?” Mr. Rhodey asks, voicing Tony’s thoughts.

Peter looks between them, his eyebrows furrowing. “A hot dog octopus? You know…” He stares at them, baffled. “You don’t know what a hot dog octopus is?”  
Mr. Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m assuming it has to do with a hot dog and an octopus.” Tony snickers.

Peter looks offended. “It’s where you cut up an end of a hot dog so it looks like it has tentacles! And then Aunt May would use mustard to add two little dots for eyes.”

Tony gags. “Mustard is yucky.”

“You like mustard just fine,” Mr. Rhodey says.

“No, I don’t. It’s weird, and it’s an ugly yellow.”

Mr. Rhodey narrows his eyes. “Have you tried mustard?”

Tony drops his gaze, pretending that he didn’t hear, and Mr. Rhodey laughs. “How would you know if you like it or not?”

“I told you, it’s an ugly yellow.”

“Corn’s the same color.”

“No, corn is a lighter yellow.”

“What about popcorn?”

“Popcorn is delicious and it’s usually a lighter yellow, too, or sometimes it’s white. It’s yummy and buttery, but mustard is just gross and weird.”

Mr. Rhodey shakes his head, and Tony guesses he gives up because he changes the subject. “Alright, so-- these hot dog octopi-”

“It’s octopuses, Mr. Rhodey,” Tony corrects. “I know it’s a common mis’ception that it’s octopi, but the plural of octopus is octopuses.”

Mr. Rhodey stares at him for a moment. “Okay.” He slowly turns to Peter. “So are these hot dog octopuses, like, a common thing?”

Peter nods. “Yeah, I mean, all my friends say they’ve had them, too.” He shakes his head. “I’ll make them sometime.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Can we trust you with a knife?”

“I’m a superhero!”

“So?”

“I hate to interrupt,” and Tony has a split second of confusion where he thinks it’s Jarvis, but then he remembers it’s Mr. Vision. He turns in his seat to look at the android stepping into the kitchen. “But I believe I have found a solution to our little… situation.”

Another man walks through the door, and Tony’s jaw drops. The man has a cape.

A _cape._

Based on pictures, he knows that Mr. Vision technically has one, too, but Tony’s only seen him wear sweaters so far. He hasn’t actually seen a cape in person yet, and this one was red and awesome.

“Whoa,” Tony says, dropping his spoon with a clatter. He hops to his feet and runs over to the man, his mouth hanging open as he stares at the cape.

The man looks down at him, looking amused. “You’ll catch flies, you know.”

Tony shuts his mouth, but he doesn’t stop staring. “Sir,” he says, “Your cape is awesome.”

For some reason, everyone laughs at this.

“You think so?” the man says, giving Tony a smile. “Trust me, it gets cooler.”

He uses one hand and unfastens the cap from his shoulders and steps forward, but the cape… stays there. It’s floating.

Tony’s jaw drops as he wordlessly stares at the cape, and everyone laughs again.

“How is it doing that?” he demands, reaching a hand forward. He gasps as the cape curls around his hand.

“Magic,” the man says, and Tony raises his eyebrows.

“No, tell me. Do you have wires in here? It feels so thin, I don’t see where you could possibly insert any sort of magnets, unless they’re incredibly small, but even then, that wouldn’t explain it curling around my hand or keeping its structure, and this floor is stone tile anyway, so-- what?” he asks, noticing everyone staring at him.

“He really is Stark, isn’t he?” the man says, looking at him curiously.

“Yup,” Peter says.

“Do you know me?” Tony asks, looking up.

“We’ve met a few times. Galas, parties, after-parties, emergency calls for crime-fighting. Things like that,” he says. He holds a hand out, and Tony shakes it. “I’m Dr. Stephen Strange.”

"What are you a doctor in?" Tony asked.

“Medicine and osteopathy. I’ve been a neurosurgeon for years, only recently became a sorcerer.”

Tony’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “A sorcerer? You’re saying you’re a wizard?”

The man winces. “Well, they really don’t like being called that. You’re better off sticking to ‘sorcerer.’”

“Okay, ‘sorcerer,’” Tony says, rolling his eyes and using air quotes. He notices the doctor raise a surprised eyebrow. “Magic is impossible.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Dr. Strange says, shaking his head. “But it is. I was equally outraged when I found out.”

“But you’re a doctor! You’ve gotta know that all that magic stuff is…” Daddy would say a bad word here. “…not true.”

The doctor chuckles. “Well,” he says, before lifting his hands. In a flash, orange and yellow light bursts from his hands into an arc, spinning from his fingertips. Runes go along the arc, and Tony’s jaw drops.

“But…” he says, stepping towards the… magic? “It’s just a… another hologram…”

He reaches forward, gasping as the ring sparks. “But-- _how?”_

The doctor smirks, moving his hands again so the ring of light snaps back into his hands. “Like I said, magic. Sorry to disappoint.”

 _“Disappoint?”_ Tony demands. “That’s _awesome!”_

Everyone raises their eyebrows in surprise, even Vision. “Well, _there’s_ a difference between you and older-you,” Mr. Rhodey says.

“Older-me doesn’t like magic?” Tony asks incredulously. “What’s wrong with me?”

Mr. Rhodey laughs. “You don’t like anything that can’t be fixed with science.”

Tony shakes his head. “So are you here to change me back to older-me?” he asks, turning to Dr. Strange.

The man looks slightly surprised, before he nods. “Yes. Is that alright?”

Tony glances around at Peter, Mr. Vision, and Mr. Rhodey. He frowns, tilting his head. He doesn’t _really_ want to leave, but he knows he needs to. He knows that Mr. Rhodey and Mr. Vision and Ms. Pepper and Peter need older-him. He feels like he’ll miss them, even though he knows he technically won’t. It just _feels_ like he’s saying goodbye, and he really doesn’t want to.

“I guess…” he says, turning back to Dr.  Strange. “Could I finish my drawing first, though?” he asks.

The doctor looks confused. “I… sure?”

Considering this guy deals with _magic,_ Tony thinks it’s pretty silly that he’s rendered speechless by such a simple request.

“Thank you,” Tony says politely, before returning to the kitchen table. He picks up his drawing again, gathers his crayons, and settles into his seat again.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s finished. He glances up at everybody, sees them all talking to each other. Miss Pepper is here now, too, because Mr. Vision called her to let her know that they would be saying goodbye to six-year-old-Tony.

Quietly, he stands up. He tries not to draw attention to himself as he carefully places the drawing on the fridge, securing it in place with magnets.

He turns around to see everyone looking at him. He shrinks back, bumping into the counter. “D’you like it?” he asks quietly.

Ms. Pepper covers her mouth with her hands, and she makes a weird noise behind them. Mr. Rhodey gives him a smile that looks happy, but also sorta sad. Peter grins widely at him, looking proud. Mr. Vision just gives him a small smile.

“Oh, sweetie,” Ms. Pepper says, rushing up to Tony. She lifts him up and squeezes him until he has trouble breathing (she does this a _lot)._ “It’s absolutely perfect.”

Tony smiles, twisting to look at the drawing.

It shows a little boy wearing a red and gold gauntlet, surrounded by a tall, red android, wearing a stylish combination of a sweater vest and a cape, a man wearing blue with braces on his legs (that suspiciously look like they have rockets attached to them?), a woman wearing super high heels with flaming red hair (cut Tony some slack, Crayola’s 24-pack is severely lacking), and another boy (taller than the one before, of course) hanging from the ceiling and shooting lines of black that wrap around the whole gang.

“It’s awesome,” Peter says excitedly, running up beside Ms. Pepper and Tony to get a closer look. “Dude, this is awesome!”

Tony turns to Mr. Rhodey who’s still got that sad-happy thing going on. Tony frowns. “Mr. Rhodey, what’s wrong?”

Mr. Rhodey looks a little startled, dropping his gaze from the drawing to Tony. “Ah, no, everything’s fine.” He comes to stand by Tony, and he wraps an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “I just realized I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

Tony scrunches his nose, leaning his head back to look at him. “But I’ll still be here. I’ll just be a little less small with a weird goatee.”

Mr. Rhodey laughs, giving Tony a final squeeze before letting him go. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Good point, kid.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

Everyone laughs, and Tony turns to Dr. Strange. “Okay. I think I’m ready.”

The doctor nods. “Alright. Stand still, and don’t worry. This shouldn’t hurt.”

Tony shrugs. “Okay.” He squeezes his eyes shut and waits.

Then, FRIDAY says, “I hate to interrupt, but Captain Rogers is calling again.”

“Goddamn it,” Mr. Rhodey says, glaring at the ceiling. “I’ll be right back,” he growls, before storming out of the room. Tony peeks an eye open, squirming uncomfortably.

Dr. Strange raises an eyebrow. “Captain America is calling you? I thought you two weren’t getting along.”

“They’re not,” Ms. Pepper says sharply, and Tony twists to see that Ms. Pepper looks just as angry as Mr. Rhodey did. “Captain Rogers has been incessantly trying to call Tony despite the fact that he’s six years old and unable to have a conversation about… their recent conflicts.”

Tony sighs. “I think I did something wrong,” he explains solemnly to the doctor.

“No, you didn’t, Tony. Stop saying that,” Peter says, frowning. “I told you, it’s his fault.”

“But I--”

“Oh, for the love of God, I can not deal with an _insecure_ Stark. This is just… wrong,” Dr. Strange interrupts, holding his hand out to tell them to stop.

“Clearly, you don’t know Tony,” Tony hears Peter mumble, and he frowns.

“Anyway,” the sorcerer says, looking at Tony. “Would you like to get this over with?”

Tony leans to the side and sees Mr. Rhodey enter the room again behind the doctor. He nods. “Yeah, let’s do it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his teeth, and tightens his shoulders.

He hears the noise of the magic, sounding like a combination of an airplane engine and glass, before a blinding flare of pain shoots through his body, and he falls on the ground.

* * *

“--have to say, I will miss the innocence, even if Howard took most of it away. It was really nice to see him, you know, happy.”

“Not to mention adorable. I will miss that.”

Tony’s throat constricts. He’s not-- God, they _saw_ him like that. Like a kid, like an insecure brat.

He swallows, then says, “Excuse you, Ms. Potts. I am still very cute.”

“Tony!” Before he knows it, he’s being hugged to death.

“Wow, I really thought this would stop once I wasn’t six,” Tony says, his words muffled into Pepper’s shoulder.

“Don’t forget the four months,” Rhodey says cheerfully, so Tony flips him off.

“Don’t speak of it. Any of it,” he mutters as he’s released. He rubs his chest, glancing around his room. “Where’s Peter?”

“He’s doing his English homework in the kitchen… I’ll let him know you’re up,” Pepper says, giving Tony’s hand a final squeeze before disappearing down the hallway.

Rhodey turns to him. They’re both silent for a couple minutes, Tony picking at a thread on his sweatpants, Rhodey watching him. Then Rhodey says, “So, when was I going to know about the phone?”

Tony winces, but keeps himself from giving a full-fledged flinch. “Rhodey, I’m--”

“No, really? What the hell are you doing with a phone from Rogers? Do you even know how much trouble you could get into with that? What if Ross found out? Jesus, Tony, just--”

“I’m _sorry!”_  Tony interrupts, his voice cracking horrifically. He flinches at the noise, pretends he didn’t. “I’m _sorry,_ I just couldn’t-- I wanted to get rid of it, but I _couldn’t_.”

“Why not? He’s a dick, Tony. He’s done horrible things to you, why can’t you--”

“I know that! And I know it’s dangerous, and a bad idea--”

“A _really_ fucking bad idea.”

“--but I can’t, Rhodey.” His breath hitches. “I need them. I need them, and I can’t let them go.”

“Yes, you can!” Rhodey exclaims, storming over and gripping Tony’s hand. “You can drop their asses, you can forget about them. While you’re at it, you can give yourself some more credit, too, because you do _not_ need them. You’re strong, Tony, and you have been since you were fucking ‘six years and four months old.’ You were strong before them, you’re strong now. So get that shit about you needing them out of your head because you deserve way more than what they ever gave you.”

Tony stares, flabbergasted. “But I--”

“I’m serious, Tones,” Rhodey says, squeezing his hand tighter. “You need to let go of them.”

Tony blinks quickly, trying to hold back any tears that think about escaping. He takes a deep breath, in and out. “Okay.” He shakes his head. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Rhodey says, before he sits down on the edge of Tony’s bed. He nudges Tony repeatedly before the genius finally rolls his eyes and scoots over. Rhodey grins, swinging his legs up onto the bed and wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulders.  

Tony’s barely nestled his head onto Rhodey’s shoulder when he hears a loud “ _Cuddle pile!”_

Tony lets out an _oof!_ as a teenager crashes into his other side.

“Jesus!” He shoves Peter off, only to allow him to sprawl all over his legs. He rolls his eyes.

“Ooh!” Tony turns to see Pepper by the door, a smile on her face. “Can I join the cuddle pile?” she asks.

Tony rolls his eyes again and huffs dramatically. “I _guess.”_

So now, he’s being cuddled from two sides, and has a teenager rolling around on his shins. The only one left is--

“Oh. I didn’t know--” Vision starts, hovering in the doorway and looking fairly uncomfortable, but then Peter says, “Oh, come on, Vis! Join the cuddle pile!”

“This is not my favorite pastime,” Vision says, even as he lies on the bed next to Peter.

“Same here, kiddo,” Tony says, and he grunts as an elbow collides with his ribs.

“Shut the hell up, you _love_ it,” Rhodey says.

“No, I don’t,” Tony grumbles, sinking down. Maybe he does.

* * *

Tony tries to ignore the whole de-aging episode, but that turns out to be pretty difficult when a certain star-spangled _someone_ won’t leave you the fuck alone.

When the phone rings for the third time while he’s eating lunch, Tony growls and rips it out of his pocket. (He’s started carrying it with him so he can just hang up immediately instead of having FRIDAY go to the trouble of recognizing the sound and alerting Tony.) Instead of hanging up, he decides to actually answer the call.

“Rogers, I swear to God, if you don’t fucking stop calling, I’m going to--”

“Tony! Are you okay? T’Challa wasn’t telling us anything, and you-- you were a kid, and--”

“T’Challa didn’t tell you anything because he was briefed on the situation and it was none of your goddamn business.”

“Tony, you’re my friend! I was worried--”

“No, I’m not. I never was. We were barely a team, so stop fucking calling. I don’t want to talk to you. I have--” He pauses, his eyes landing on a drawing stuck to the fridge. His heart stutters for a second, and a feeling of warmth shocks his system. He looks at the cute, yet crude, little family displayed proudly.

He clears his throat. “I have actual friends who I can talk to. I have a _family_ who I can talk to. One that you aren’t a part of. I don’t need you. All I need is them, so _stop calling.”_

He snaps the phone shut, before staring at it for a minute. He looks at the drawing again, before looking back at the phone. After a moment of hesitation, he takes a deep breath, before dropping the phone in the trash.

He doesn’t need them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, I had a lot of fun writing it. If you noticed any mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them! (My tumblr, FYI, is tonystarkreactor so... if you wanna follow me on there... you should.)


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